


Vicarious Pleasures

by Otonymous



Category: SLBP - Fandom, Samurai Love Ballad Party - Fandom, Samurai Love Ballad: PARTY, 天下統一恋の乱 | Sakura Amidst Chaos | Samurai Love Ballad (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Implied Violence, Masturbation, Other, Smut, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2020-01-01 09:20:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18333170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Otonymous/pseuds/Otonymous
Summary: Sakuya makes the best out of being caught between a rock and a hard place.





	Vicarious Pleasures

**Author's Note:**

> In anticipation of SLBP’s release of Sakuya’s POV story, here’s my take on what goes on inside Sakuya’s head when faced with the MC in Genya’s main story. Happy reading!
> 
> Trigger warning: violence against MC is alluded to.

Sakuya’s breath came hard and fast as he lay on the floor of an abandoned shack in the forest, the musty smell of rotting wood competing with the incessant droning of an army of cicadas to draw his attention. But the shinobi is otherwise occupied in trying to settle a heart sent racing by a dangerous mixture of exertion, anger…and jealousy. For every time his memory conjures up the image of _her_ entangled in Genya’s limbs, the sour clench of his gut renews his heart’s attempt to beat its way out of his chest.

Sakuya understood his duty well: that as a shinobi, he was a puppet on a string, each movement carefully dictated by the elders of the village or the lord he served. A good shinobi was a sharpened blade, neither thinking nor feeling. And so it was that Sakuya hollowed himself from the inside out until nothing remained but a dying wind whistling though a long abandoned home. There would be no pain if there was no heart to break in the first place. At least, that was what he kept telling himself.

He had an inkling his good-for-nothing brother was harbouring her, the Mitsuba fugitive worth her weight in gold because she alone held the key to the Dragon’s Tears. But his suspicions were confirmed when he saw her there in the dilapidated temple, and for the first time in a long while, Sakuya was thankful for Genya’s existence. It allowed him to continue his masquerade, grasping for the slightest pretence to stretch his mission out for just a little longer without arousing suspicion from Iga. For every time his hands reached out to encircle the delicate column of her neck, he felt his lungs constrict in a painful reminder of his fundamental flaw: that time did nothing to dull the intensity of the love he felt for a woman he was destined to kill.

* * *

Although the light of the lone lantern in the temple barely illuminated anything beyond its tiny radius, a clear image of her face contorted in passion was burned into Sakuya’s mind. Hidden beneath the floorboards, the ninja blinked at the narrowed vision above him, as if in utter disbelief that the bossy girl who used to wear flower crowns and force salves on him could wear such an expression at all. With every slapping thrust of Genya’s hips against her shapely ass, her face dropped lower and lower to the ground, until Sakuya thought he could feel a hint of her panting breath on his lips even as her moans resounded in his ears.

He would not be fulfilling his mission tonight, and in retrospect, should have left while they were occupied. However he felt about him, Sakuya had no desire to fight his twin. But the sight of her, brazenly beautiful and lost in pleasure, held him like a magnet. So he found himself caught like a rat in a cramped crevice, thinking of how wonderful it would be if he could possess Genya like a ghost and feel the softness of her skin for himself.

“C’mon, let’s blow this out so we can see how wild you really get.”

The room was suddenly plunged into darkness, Genya’s hearty chuckle following on the heels of a sharp slap to skin and the chastising whine of his name. Fists clenched tightly by his side, Sakuya felt the flames of anger lick at every tensed muscle in his body and he fought desperately to keep control. In spite of this, the younger Fujibayashi twin found that the cover of night sharpened all his other senses, allowing his imagination to run unbridled in the most indulgent of directions.

There, in the midst of sighs and conjoined shadows, it was Sakuya’s hands running through her hair, fingers gently entwining around silken tresses as he lays her down on the same bed of clovers they frolicked in as children. Melodic moans flow from lips parted just for him, and the ninja finds a certain satisfaction from hearing her voice muffled by the hungry press of his mouth against hers. He imagines she would taste sweet under the broad strokes of his tongue, and revels in the thought that he would detect the faint scent of herbs even on the tender skin of her breasts.

Sakuya shifts imperceptibly in his self-imposed prison, his hand silently burrowing through layers of clothing until he finds the solid heat of his cock. As his cool fingers drag lightly up his growing length, lingering about the tip to smear his arousal in lazy circles around and under the sensitive head, he thinks he would like to teach her how he wanted to be touched, just as she would tell him how many fingers he could comfortably fuck her with.

He would take his time, really savour her, one hand resting on her hip as the other trailed up the soft flesh of her stomach, stretched out below the woman who occupied his mind like no other as she impaled herself upon him like a willing sacrifice. And when the moon reached its apex in the night sky to bathe her in a halo of light, his ethereal goddess would clench in pleasure around him to draw out the offering of his own release.

“Hahh, Gen—!”

She gasps, the sound cutting through Sakuya’s reverie to freeze his hand in place where it had started to pump in earnest. He listens intently to the limbs shifting overhead until they settle, allowing the sounds of a rhythmic squelching to rise to the fore just as his nose detects the heady scent of their intimacy. The increasing intensity of her whimpers comes through in broken sobs, as if voiced behind the press of a large, strong hand. And then, they cease completely only to be replaced by the sound of her panting, periodically punctuated by Genya’s shuddering groans. At last, the screaming silence of their slowing hearts finally signals Sakuya to take his leave.

* * *

“Enjoy the show?”

Genya drawls, already dressed and waiting on the temple steps when his younger brother reemerges into the night. Sakuya’s steps falter for a second before he recovers, briskly putting distance between himself and Genya without deigning to throw a glance in his twin’s direction. That is, until Genya says, without a hint of a smile in his voice,

“Just so you know, I’m not giving up on her.”

The ice in Sakuya’s sapphire eyes does nothing to temper the boiling rage in his chest as he trains his gaze on Genya, his determination meeting its match in carmine irises.

“Neither am I.”

And the last thing Sakuya hears before he hurriedly escapes into the dense thicket of the forest is her voice from inside the temple, calling his brother’s name.


End file.
